


Devil's Night

by mothermachinegun



Series: Fratstuck [14]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Collegestuck, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Humanstuck, M/M, Reverse Cowgirl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2013-11-12
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothermachinegun/pseuds/mothermachinegun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They just want to stay home and do the nasty.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil's Night

“I don’t believe you guys aren’t gonna fuckin’ go out. That’s a-plus bullshit, right about there.”

“They just want to stay home and do the nasty.”

“Dirk- oh my god, I’m so triggered, wow, oh no-”

“Hey, look, somebody’s gotta stay home and guard the place.”

You sit curled up somewhat to Cronus’s side on the sofa in the front room. A mummy and a skeleton leer down at you with trick-or-treat bags full of beer. Kappa Alpha Alpha, your sister sorority, was having an enormous Halloween party with the invitation extended to nearly the entire population of BSU’s student body, and everybody was going but you and Cronus.

The house, from what you could see across the street, was already full of people, music thudding and the screaming laughter of pre-party drunk Sorority chicks as they, in glittery witch, cat, nurse, vampire costumes, skittered up the lawn in high heels.

Jake and Dirk exchange grins. You’re getting a sickening amount of secondhand embarrassment from their costumes, they’re both dressed as women but in a very different way. Ironic, Dirk would call it, they were doing it for ironic purposes.

Jake was dressed as Lara Croft (“Larry,”, he insisted). The gun holsters around his thighs had bottles of Guinness in them. Dirk was in some magical girl looking costume that was obviously meant for someone with much more bosom than him. He kept tugging at his skirt, and, turning somewhat to Jake, you can hear him very quietly ask, “Does this make my ass look big?”

Clamping your hands over your face, you bury your head and groan. You can hear Rufioh laugh as he and Horuss clatter into the room, bottles jingling. You look up.

“You’re not dressing up?” Mituna asks them, putting one bandaged hand on his hip.

Horuss adjusts the bottles of beer in his arm and, with one hand, pulls on one of those horrid horse masks with the bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Rufioh has the unicorn version, and he pulls his on with a snicker.

Kurloz the skeleton has to stoop forward somewhat to catch Mituna as the mummy howls with laughter and collapses dramatically against him.

“Now friggin’ am-scray, will you?” Cronus waves a dismissive hand, standing up and taking a beer bottle out of Mituna’s bag. “…Natty Light? I’m disappointed in you.” He snaps it open and takes a swig before settling back down. “Bye, guys.”

Rufioh strokes a hand down Horuss’s ponytail and gives it a little shake. “Onward, noble steed! Hee-ya!”

Horuss, looking mortified, leads his fellow equine out the door, and Mituna, whooping, follows, along with everyone else. Once the door is closed behind them, you hold a hand up and indicate that Cronus should be quiet.

“Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“Silence.”

Cronus looks awed, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling in wonder. “…my god.” He takes a drink of the beer and then offers it to you. You take it, giving it a sniff before sipping curiously from it. You really do hate the taste of beer, and you shudder somewhat before passing it back. Beer is one of those things that you only drink when your frat brothers demand it of you.

“Gross.”

“I’ll say.” Cronus plunks it down on the coffee table. “Okay, chief. It’s you, me, and a bowl of candy.”

“So it is,” You raise eyebrows at him, feeling a little smirk creep over your face as he shifts somewhat, bringing you in close to him. You feel your torso brush his, your back sloping into a gentle arch as his hands run over you.

You duck forward and kiss him with one fluid motion, he makes an approving little noise into it as you tilt your head.

Halloween, you thought, was for children, and although you could understand the novelty of dressing up and going to a party when you were in your twenties, you thought it better left for those of you who actually enjoyed dressing up. You’d never liked the holiday much. It was a bastardization of a much older holiday that was about nature and harvest, not candy and costumes.

Cronus, on the other hand, got a kick out of it, and you knew that he would want to sneak off to the party at some point that night. You supposed you would let him eventually, but, like you told him, only after I’m done with you.

He seemed to be okay with that, his hands sliding down your back to slide into your back pockets and squeeze.

Your little brother, Karkat, always loved Halloween, and for the majority of your high-school career you spent escorting him around the neighborhood, because your father point-blank refused to take part in it.

Though you refused to dress up, as Cronus’s hands now slide up your shirt, you did not refused to wear an appropriate black and orange sweater.

Cronus’s t-shirt simply read: I’m only here for the boos.

It made you snort when you saw it and then Cronus had laughed because oh my god doll I didn’t know you snorted and you’d fwapped him several times with a pillow until he quit.

You suck at his throat placidly, his chilly fingers brushed your nipples and you can feel your jeans becoming uncomfortable. Lowering yourself against him, offering a little gyrating movement with your hips, you feel him tense against you and arch wantonly up in response.

You’re getting kind of good at this sex thing. Practice, you supposed, made perfect, and, though you would never admit it, you’ve done a fair share of research on the subject and you quite found it fascinating if not a rather difficult read.

There are plenty of ways to up the passion. Don’t forget about what you could be doing with your mouth and hands while you thrust into him. Lick his neck, bite his ear, or gently pull his hair. Jerking him off as you do him is also a big plus!

You’d had to lock your bedroom door and have a quick self-love sesh after that particular paragraph. It was a good one, that was for sure.

As your tongue slides against his, feeling his cock as he rotates his hips against yours, his hands return to your hips and he gives you a prompting little get off me push. He starts to undo your belt and you bite your tongue a little bit as he undoes the snap on your jeans and then ah yes he slides his hand between your legs and you feel him, warm and firm, massaging your cock through your boxers.

You rutt against him, breaking the kiss with a little gasp before you bow your head to bury into his neck, distracting yourself with biting at his ear and breathing into it.

Eyes tightly closed, you let him feel you up, feeling needy desire coming to fruition in your veins. Your movements are a little erratic, uneven, like your harsh breathing. You brace your hands on either side of him as he squeezes your cock lightly.

“Hey chief,” He murmurs, tilting his head somewhat so you can leave a hickey on the side of his neck. “I just thought of something.”

Sighing inwardly, you lift your head up as he stills his hand. “Yes?”

“Uh, we didn’t bring any lube.”

“For crying out loud-” You let your head fall onto his chest with a noise, he grunts and extracts his hands from your pants.

Cronus’s brain goes into clockwork mode, and you sigh, sitting up now and casually feeling him up. His leg twitches a bit, distracted, and you hear him make the smallest of, “Uh-” noises before you strip his belt off and start to shimmy his pants down.

“Never mind, I’m an idiot, there’s totally stuff in the bathroom- or Kurloz’s room, he won’t care-”

You could have probably smacked him, but you were busily stroking the shaft of his cock up and down in slow, languid movements. You crouched somewhat, bowing your head over the tip and taking it into your mouth. Cronus takes a breath, surprised, obviously having not been paying attention.

Something else you’ve read up on. What to do with your hand at the same time, that kind of thing. You grip his cock as you suck it, nodding your head in time with your hand as you stroke him. It’s a precise, practiced movement that takes a little bit of dexterity, like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time.

Cronus appreciates it. He lolls his head back and groans a little and runs his hands through his hair, pressing his palms against his eyes for a brief moment before he letting them flop back at his sides, one of them reaching down to stroke your hair.

“Oh my god…” You wonder if he can tell you’ve done a little research. The last time you tried this was the first and only time you’d ever done so, and you’re pretty sure you did an awful sloppy job that time. From the way he’s biting his lip, you think he’s enjoying it.

You keep your eyes on his face, and, for a second, just a tiny second, he opens one eye and catches your gaze. You stare at one another, and of course you don’t stop sucking him off.

“…wow that’s really hot,” He breathes, holding your face lightly. “Oh man…”

You’ll stop whenever you’re ready. Your cock throbs a little, but you pay it no mind. Getting him hot and bothered like this is plenty of a head start for you, seeing what you can do to make him lose it is an aphrodisiac all on its own. That doesn’t stop your other hand from sliding between your legs to gently stroke yourself.

“Kannnyyyyy,” He whines, giving your hair a little tug. “Enough, if you keep goin’ like that-”

“Yes?”

“-then I’m gonna jizz all over your face is what, give me like two seconds-” You stand up when he motions for you to, he hitches his boxers back up and hurries out the doorway, heading back towards the long downstairs hallway. You follow him a few steps behind, and you watch as he ducks into Kurloz’s room. You linger in the hallway, feeling your limbs tingle weakly.

“Hurry.”

“Hang on, I can’t find any condoms.”

“Does he use them?”

“I’d friggin’ assume so! Shit, we’re SOL. Got this though.” He heads out of the room with a bottle of lube, examining it critically. You snatch it from him, leading the way back out.

“Let’s go to the den, we can shut the door in there.”

“Good idea. Don’t want no one runnin’ back home ‘cos they forgot somethin’.”

Cronus pushes open the door into the den, darts across the room to make sure that the opposing door, the one that leads into the garage, is locked, while you toss off your shirt and collapse on the sofa. “Hey Cronus,” You purr at him, offering up the bottle. “…want to lube me up?”

The look he gives you is straight up hungry, and he takes the bottle and sits down beside you. “C’mere.” You wriggle out of your jeans and boxers, offering up a sigh of relief as your cock is exposed to open air, and sit on his lap. “Hang on, turn- there-” You lean back against him somewhat, spreading your legs on either side as he tosses the closed lube bottle away to one side. His fingers, cool with the bottled lube, press for just a moment before they slip inside of you. The hot, invaded feeling flashes over you for just the briefest moment as his other hand rubs your chest, grazing your nipples again before sliding downwards to grip your cock. You put can feel his dick pressing against your back, bracing your hands on either of his thighs as he rocks his fingers in and out of you.

You gasp weakly, squeezing his thighs and lolling your head back. It feels a little overwhelming, being penetrated with two fingers in tandem with having your cock stroked. You groan, rolling your hips against his fingers. Deeper, harder, more.

“Ohgod Cronus-”

“Easy, babydoll. You like that?”

“Yeah-”

“Mmm, yeah… you ready to ride my cock?”

You simply nod weakly, gasping as a shiver ripples through your body. You groan, feeling him let go of your cock. You replace his hand as he slips his fingers out of you, and you pay no heed as he lubes his cock up, listening to the squelchy, wet noises it makes.

“…this stuff’s thicker than what we normally use,” Cronus murmurs curiously, wiping a lube-covered hand on his jeans before he grips the base of your dick. “…Kinda feels better. You ready?”

“Yes.”

“'kay…” Cronus kisses your shoulder as he pulls you down onto the head of his cock. You gasp at the initial sting of penetration but sink easily down onto him, squeezing his thighs to moderate your pace.

He reaches around your front and grips your cock loosely in one hand. You make an approving sound, leaning your head back to breathe into his ear. “I’m ready.” You murmur, clenching your muscles to squeeze his cock in the way he likes. “Fuck me.”

And fuck you he does. You can feel him lean back somewhat as he thrusts his hips up into you, and you move in time with him, head tilted back as your body leans forward automatically. Every thrust hilts him into you and you cry out each time, bucking up against his cock.

He methodically jerks you off, the pace quick and practiced. It’s like his hand is moving on autopilot so his body can focus on ramming you. His other hand, the one that’s not on your cock, is gripping your hip to help pull you back against him on the opposing thrust.

“Cronus-!” You squeak, mouth somewhat ajar. Your cock drools openly into his hand, pre-cum and extra lube making it slick and pliable. You dig your fingernails into Cronus’s thighs, abruptly gnashing your teeth together as he fucks you right in the prostate, and you let out a low, keening noise.

You can hear him with his mantra behind you, in your ear, his harangue of mindless smut talk that you just love so much.

“Feel good, baby? Yeah, you like it, don’t you, you like it when I fuck you so good like that, you like that fat cock up you like a dirty little bitch, isn’t that right? Ho god-”

You aren’t sure you’re adverse to the idea of being referred to as a dirty little bitch. Especially when you’re being Cronus’s dirty little bitch.

“Yeah I fuckin’ like it so good, give it to me harder, da-” You bite the word back and immediately turn it into a strangled noise, “-aaghh!”

That had been close. You moan, feeling hot shame flush your body right down to the very tips of your toes, and you writhe in Cronus’s lap as he feverishly jerks you off.

“That’s it, baby, cum on my cock like a good boy.”

You’re happy to. It takes minutes, his signal to stop thrusting is a desperate cry of, “Oh God-” and he hilts as deep in you as he can, stroking you to completion. You sit, so very full of cock, and let him milk you for all it’s worth, you cum hot and hard on yourself, splattering his hand, your stomach.

He can’t seem to wait much longer. His grip on your cock loosens, he grips your hips again as he starts to fuck you again, and you’re oversensitive and you think your eyes might have teared up from bliss. You try and blink them away, eyes rolling back as Cronus continues to slam you.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

Then, just as suddenly as he started, you feel him whip it out of you and all you hear is the wet noises of himself jerking off before you feel his cum splatter your thigh. Shivering, gasping, you both slow to a halt, and you glance down at yourself. Absolutely covered in semen. You practically glisten.

“Heh,” Cronus peers over your shoulder. “I guess we painted you white, huh, chief?”

“…get. Me. A. Towel.”

Minutes later when you’re both properly dressed again and collapsed once more on the sofa in the front room, he finishes off the Natty Light he’d abandoned earlier and you dig into the bowl of candy on the coffee table.

“You wanna wander over to Kay-Ay-Ay?” Cronus asks you, nodding at the sorority house, which appears to be still thudding with life. “Bet we could find the guys there.”

You toss a box of Nerds at him. “I knew you wanted to go to over there.”

“Duh,” Cronus opens the box and pours its entire contents into his mouth. When he next speaks, his tongue is completely purple. “I love the girls’ Halloween parties, they have one every year, yanno.”

Tsking, you stand up, stretching. “I suppose, then, we’d better get going.”

“Yesss. Meenah’s gonna get a kick outta my shirt.”


End file.
